Hairy Pawter: Sneak Peek
by divpotterdemitributebender
Summary: Preview and Story for Hairy Pawter. Harry accidentally gets turned into a cat. Worse yet, he gets adopted by Draco Malfoy. Rated M because of sensitive topics such as self-harm, suicide, and child abuse. Also because of later chapters ;) Drarry, DracoxHarry. Contains slash and boyslove.
1. SNEAK PEEK

**Chapter 1 will come by 8/16/13. Here's the preview, enjoy! Leave any ideas or suggestions for future chapters (I will give credit,) in the reviews, and PLEASE REVIEW. Reviews fuel my writing.**

**Beautiful cover image by Cometsong on Deviantart.**

**~C~**

* * *

Mrs. Norris was never fond of stray cats. She did not appreciate bratty little homeless kitties that could find themselves an owner using just their over-sized eyes. And most of all, she _hated _felines that were not First-Class, like herself.

That would be why she was out to rid the world of them.

Mrs. Norris drew herself up proudly. _She _was queen of this school, and no scruffy kitten could overthrow her. She patrolled the corridors and expected respect, otherwise the criminals in question would answer to her henchmen – hench_man – _Argus Filch.

What she never predicted was a stray cat to actually have the _nerve _to bump into her.

A low growl rumbled deep inside her. Her ears tawny ears perked up, her steely eyes narrowed. Adrenaline surged through her. She felt like a fierce lion. Like she had said, no scruffy _kitten _would overthrow her.

Mrs. Norris crept away. The feline had disappeared as quickly as it came, so she never got the chance to get a good look at him. Not to worry, she would catch him, no doubt. At least she knew that he was still on the same floor as her. If he tried to retreat to another level, he would be caught in the trick staircase. _Mrs. Norris, you have done it this time, _she congratulated herself. Her plan was all worked out. Now to find the bastard.

Mrs. Norris followed the distinct scent that the cat carried leading her past twists and turns when suddenly, she spotted him. She backed up a little to be shielded by the last corner he had led her past, only to see that the cat was totally vulnerable, which was strange for a stray. Usually they would have been through enough to know that they should never let their guard down.

She pounced into action at once, not wanting to let the culprit escape her clutches. The cat's black fur was distinct against the tan walls, making him very easy to trace. Mrs. Norris could see, from her angle, that the feline had vivid green eyes and a bit of white fur at the tips of his paws. The rascal leaped onto a staircase, taking Mrs. Norris by surprise. Which was even stranger was that the cat _knew _about the trick step in the middle of the staircase. Mrs. Norris shook it off. It was probably a coincidence, anyways. She skidded to a stop and then jumped back into pursuit of the mysterious cat. She hopped up the steps and crept along the railing. She was going to take this monster by surprise and-

But the feline was nowhere to be found. At least, not on the ground, anyways. Instead the cat was being picked up by a blonde-haired boy. She had seen this boy before, usually surrounded by his pack of friends that followed him everywhere. His skin was pale against his steely eyes, which flicked in her direction. He shooed her away with his foot and stalked away, carrying that idiot cat off with him. Mrs. Norris glared coldly from a distance at the two. Oh, well. She would get him next time.

…what she also did not know was that that worthless stray was Harry Potter.

* * *

**Enjoyed it? Than PLEASE REVIEW! I love reviews.**

**~C~**


	2. Chapter 1: Unexpected

**Hi! This is my first actual Drarry fanfic, other than my Mirror of Drarry One Shot that some of you have read. I hope you enjoy it, and I'm am nearly positive that I will have Chapter 2 up by next Friday, if not sooner. And also, it will be Rated M in later chapters :).**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Duh. This is a non-profit fanfiction and all rights and characters go to the beautiful J.K. Rowling.**

**Warnings: Language. And a bit of Drarry fluff at the end :D**

**Enjoy, and PLEASE REVIEW! Reviews fuel my writing, and plus I might be able to get Chapter 2 up sooner, depending on how many reviews I get. ****Thanks for reading, I hope you like it!**

**~C~**

* * *

Mrs. Norris was never fond of stray cats. She did not appreciate bratty little homeless kitties that could find themselves an owner using just their over-sized eyes. And most of all, she _hated _felines that were not First-Class, like herself.

That would be why she was out to rid the world of them.

Mrs. Norris drew herself up proudly. _She _was queen of this school, and no scruffy kitten could overthrow her. She patrolled the corridors and expected respect; otherwise the criminals in question would answer to her henchmen – hench_man – _Argus Filch.

What she never predicted was a stray cat to actually have the _nerve _to bump into her.

A low growl rumbled deep inside her. Her ears tawny ears perked up, her steely eyes narrowed. Adrenaline surged through her. She felt like a fierce lion. Like she had said, no scruffy _kitten _would overthrow her.

Mrs. Norris crept away. The feline had disappeared as quickly as it came, so she never got the chance to get a good look at him. Not to worry, she would catch him, no doubt. At least she knew that he was still on the same floor as her. If he tried to retreat to another level, he would be caught in the trick staircase. _Mrs. Norris, you have done it this time, _she congratulated herself. Her plan was all worked out. Now to find the bastard.

Mrs. Norris followed the distinct scent that the cat carried leading her past twists and turns when suddenly, she spotted him. She backed up a little to be shielded by the last corner he had led her past, only to see that the cat was totally vulnerable, which was strange for a stray. Usually they would have been through enough to know that they should never let their guard down.

She pounced into action at once, not wanting to let the culprit escape her clutches. The cat's black fur was distinct against the tan walls, making him very easy to trace. Mrs. Norris could see, from her angle, that the feline had vivid green eyes and a bit of white fur at the tips of his paws. The rascal leaped onto a staircase, taking Mrs. Norris by surprise. Which was even stranger was that the cat _knew _about the trick step in the middle of the staircase. Mrs. Norris shook it off. It was probably a coincidence, anyways. She skidded to a stop and then jumped back into pursuit of the mysterious cat. She hopped up the steps and crept along the railing. She was going to take this monster by surprise and-

But the feline was nowhere to be found. At least, not on the ground, anyways. Instead the cat was being picked up by a blonde-haired boy. She had seen this boy before, usually surrounded by his pack of friends that followed him everywhere. His skin was pale against his steely eyes, which flicked in her direction. He shooed her away with his foot and stalked away, carrying that idiot cat off with him. Mrs. Norris glared coldly from a distance at the two. Oh, well. She would get him next time.

…what she also did not know was that that worthless stray was Harry Potter.

* * *

Ugh. Harry had to admit, being a cat, a helpless _cat, _sucked. He couldn't talk, he couldn't use a wand, and nobody knew where he was, not even him. How did he even get himself into this mess?

Oh yeah. He was being stupid… again. He was trying to get an ingredient down from the Potions cabinet with a simple spell, that he had, no matter how easy, no matter how long he had known the freaking spell, somehow managed to mess up and turn himself into a cat. And when he tried to escape the classroom, Snape held him up by the scruff of his neck and asked who the little 'mangy beast' belonged to. And since nobody owned a Harry-Potter-look-a-like kitty, no one took him. Snape then proceeded to throw Harry out into the hall. This was one of the only advantages to being a cat; he always landed on his feet. And so he had, thankfully unharmed.

Harry hunted the antechambers. He had to find a someone who could turn him back, or a teacher who would recognize him and do so, and fast. Otherwise he would be trampled by the students who would be rushing to get to class in about ten minutes. So Harry made his way to the Headmaster's office. Surely Dumbledore, one of the greatest wizards of all time would recognize Harry. Or maybe Dumbledore really was as crazy as his speech at the feast in first year would suggest.

The little black cat could hear the padding noise that his own paws made as he trotted the corridors. Harry broke into a run – er, _canter _– to get to his mentor ASAP. The momentum was broken, however, when he ran into another cat. Harry had almost forgotten that Hogwarts students could own other pets than owls and lumpy toads. He spun around to see Mrs. Norris, eyes narrowed to little slits. He could hear the growl that came from her, which, from his angle, was actually pretty scary. His only thought was to put as much distance between him and the feline she-devil as was possible.

He took off, a dark blur to any on-lookers, and sped up a staircase. Out of the corner of his eye he peeked at Mrs. Norris's confused face and did his best to cat-smirk. His little white paws skipped over the trick step that he had been caught by so many times. Harry could feel the cool wind brushing past his shadowy ears when-

_Whump._

Harry accidentally head-butted someone in the shin. He shook his head, and when his eyes regained their focus, he saw a pair of black pants just inches before his petite pink nose. _Why _did he have to be so damn cutesy-wutsey? He could smell laundry detergent on the fabric before him, and to be honest, it actually wasn't that bad, until he looked up and saw who the pants belonged to.

Why the hell was Draco Malfoy out of class?

* * *

Draco looked down to see a black cat at his feet, an adorable one, too. It had an adorable pink button nose, big, adorable green eyes, and four adorable paws with white tips. It was all too… well, adorable. He plucked up the cat and pressed him to his chest. He had always wanted a cat when he was younger, but because his parents were 'too busy' and he was 'too young' they were never able to get one. But there was no rule at Hogwarts that stated that he _couldn't _have a cat.

Draco decided to name the cat Paws, because of the cat's adorable white-tipped feet that Draco loved so much. Paws had spent the day harbored under Draco's four-poster, and it didn't seem like he was coming out, not even for eating. When Draco had reached beneath his bed earlier, Paws had swiped at Draco's hand and scratched him fiercely. What's more, Paws seemed to enjoy it. "Oh, well. You'll come out eventually." He sighed.

_That's what you think; _Harry smirked as Malfoy reassured him of his return to the outside world. Harry wished that he could have laughed when he scratched Malfoy. The look on his face was _priceless; _he would never let Malfoy hear the end of it when he escaped from this hellhole-

_If _he escaped from this hellhole.

* * *

Harry hated it here. Malfoy had shoved Harry onto the four-poster and gave him that ridiculous name – _Paws, _ugh – and then pushed a bowl of cat food that had appeared out of nowhere at him. As if he would eat _cat food. _The strange thing was that Malfoy was smiling all the while, an actual smile, _not _a smirk, _not _a sneer, a smile. Harry had never actually seen one of those from Malfoy before. It really looked nice on him.

Merlin, this cat stuff was getting to him. He was going insane, _complimenting Malfoy. _HA.

Would this count as kidnapping? He wondered whether he could press charges when he got turned back, or if he got turned back at all. Would he have clothes on when he turned back into a human? Would he get his glasses back? Oh God – what would Malfoy do? How long would he have to withstand being his pet, or worse yet, the teasing he would get when everyone heard that he had been? Maybe he could move in with Sirius or something, until all of the gossip and laughter died down – maybe then he could show his face in public again.

But now he had to focus on getting out of here, and he couldn't do that while he was under Malfoy's bed. He might as well go out into the open until he could make his move to escape. Harry contemplated the consequences of going out, and the only one he could think of was that he was going to have to see Malfoy. So he crawled through the desert of dust bunnies and random abandoned items that he couldn't identify, due to the thick layer of dust that covered them, so he would rather not touch them. He maneuvered his way around the unknown objects and out into the daylight, where he squinted as his eyes adjusted. He could see Malfoy on his four-poster reading _101 Banshees, _leaning casually against the headboard as he turned the page. Malfoy glanced in his direction, back at his book, and then double-take-d, as is he thought he was seeing things. When he saw that Harry made no move to scratch him or hiss, he leaned over the side of the bed to look at him. A smile flashed across his face, and he patted the spot next to him on the quilted green comforter. Harry wanted to laugh in his face. Just because Harry was now Malfoy's 'pet' didn't mean that he had to love Malfoy like a normal pet.

Instead of leaping into Malfoy's arms, holding hands and running into the sunset, he trotted over to the corner of the room, plopped down, and observed Malfoy. Malfoy returned to his book, but not before giving Harry a queer look and shrugging to himself. Harry studied Malfoy for a good hour and a half, which was partially amusing. He got to witness Malfoy's mouth drop into a large 'O' when he got to the plot twist, contort in anger when the enemy made fun of the hero, and rejoice when the happy ending came. Harry, who, up until today, thought that Malfoy was just an insensitive prat, was shocked to see Malfoy display so many emotions in such a short amount of time.

Just goes to show that even humorless assholes can surprise you.

* * *

"Where could Harry be?" Hermione asked. She paced around her and Ron's table at the library. She had rattling off suggestions and wracking her brain for the past half hour. Ron was too scared to interrupt her to tell her that they should go get their stuff for their next class, since the last time Hermione had screamed 'YOUR BEST FRIEND IS MISSING AND ALL YOU CARE ABOUT IS HERBOLOGY?!'. What was even more surprising was that Madam Pince had told her to be quiet. _Hermione. Told off by a librarian. _Was the whole world upside down?

"I mean, the last time we saw him was the Potions Cabinet, and there's no place for him to go in there! How could he escape?" She tugged on her bushy locks and continued her pacing. It was true, there was really nowhere for him to escape to in the Potions Cabinet.

"Maybe he could still be in there?" Ron probed hesitantly, flinching and waiting for Hermione to explode, but the _boom _never came, so he resumed talking. "What if he fell down, or tripped, or fainted or something? He did get a late start on his Potion, so no one else needed to go to the Cabinet, so no one looked for him." Hermione froze, and Ron could practically see the gears turning in her skull.

"Ron… That was the smartest thing I've heard you say in a long time!" Ron rolled his eyes. _Gee, thanks._ "We _need _to go and check!"

"Well, I suppose we could at Double Potions tomorrow-"

"Ron, that's too far away! We need to check soon, as in today!" She let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed her temples. Suddenly, her face lit up and she asked, "Do you know where Harry keeps his invisibility cloak? We could sneak in tonight and rescue Harry!"

"…rescue…?" Ron interrupted, but Hermione rambled on, explaining in great detail how the rescue mission would work. She described every intricate detail; right down to the exact time that the Professors and the Prefects would be doing their rounds (how Hermione knew about the teachers was a mystery to him, as well). Ron thumped his head on the desk. If Hermione went on like this, he would be late to Herbology for sure.

* * *

Draco could not understand what was wrong with that frickin cat. It absolutely hated him, and for what reason he could not seem to figure out. He had tried everything, he had even accio-d up some cat toys, but Paws seemed to not be interested in _anything _cat-related. He had just glared at Draco from his little emo-corner. Draco rolled his eyes when, yet again, Paws turned down his request to sit next to Draco. This cat thought he was better than Draco, eh? Well, he would show him.

Paws seemed to be studying the wall behind him, so Draco saw this as a perfect opportunity to ambush him while he was distracted. Draco watched as Paws' eyes flicked over the details of the Slytherin banner, clearly interested in the foreign environment. It was perfect – he was totally vulnerable. Draco crept up behind him, ready to pounce and scare him so badly – but he couldn't do it. He, Draco Malfoy, would not drop to the low level of scaring kittens for fun. _Man, that sounded a lot less horrible in my head, _Draco thought. He stalked back to his four-poster and moved onto the next book, _Accio in Greece._

He was on the fourth chapter when he realized that it was almost time for dinner. He should get down to the Great Hall or his friends would badger him about it later. Honestly, Draco hated his friends – they were always so annoying, discussing their latest revenge on helpless first-year Gryffindor's, or plotting their next one. Then there was Pansy, who, for some strange reason, thought that she was dating Draco just because of _one time _last year. She would always complain about how what's-her-face tried to steal that others bitch's boyfriend and other shit that Draco didn't understand. She threw a hissy fit over every little thing that Draco did, so he tried not to show any emotion when he was around her.

Did Draco have any friends that he liked? No. Everybody was so afraid of him. Draco had to admit, sometimes he could be a little… _irritable, _but he couldn't help it. His mother had grown very distant from the family over the past year, and his father couldn't stand to see his face, for a reason that Draco knew, too. Ever since Draco confessed that he was queer to his father, he had given Draco the cold shoulder, maybe in hopes that it would turn him straight again. Blaise Zabini, however, was very excited when he heard this news. He attempted to force himself on Draco about fifty times a day, which got quite uncomfortable after a while. He also had to be on the watch constantly, in case Blaise was lurking around the corner, waiting to ambush him, or trying to slip Love Potions in his pumpkin juice. The heights he went to were sickening.

"Are you planning to come down to eat with us yet, Draco?" Pansy pushed open the door to the boys' dormitory. She peeked inside, spotting Draco reading and strode over seductively. Or at least, she tried. She ended up looking like a dying goose, but hey, at least it was an attempt. _Great. _Draco had a boy _and _a girl trying to hook up with him. Pansy sat down on Draco's lap and twisted around so she was straddling him. Pansy leaned in to kiss him, but Draco covered her mouth with his hand. She pouted for a second, but quickly recovered and went for a more stealthy approach, which Draco hastily dodged.

"Go away, Parkinson." Draco pushed her off of him and resumed with his book. Pansy left with a disgusted look on her face, slamming the door behind her. Draco winced. He felt slightly guilty about Pansy, but for God's sake, couldn't she take a hint? He glimpsed over at Paws, who looked a bit revolted in the corner and smiled. "I know, Paws, I know."

* * *

That disgusting image would not get out of Harry's head. He couldn't believe what he just caught sight of. Pansy Parkinson, _Pug-face, _had tried to make out with Malfoy, or worse. He cat-shuddered at the thought. But Malfoy, for some reason, refused, and told her off, at that. Sure, Harry himself wouldn't have wanted to snog Parkinson, but wasn't Malfoy dating her…?

It was well after six when Malfoy went down, at last, for dinner. Harry missed eating with his friends, already. Who knew what shenanigans the rest of the fifth-year Gryffindors were up to at this very moment? Harry could be missing out on some serious Slytherin-torturing, or getting away with some huge scheme, but _noooo _he had to be stuck up here with Draco-fucking-Malfoy. He could have been 'adopted' by any other person…

Harry looked around the Slytherin dormitory. It was a replica of his back at the Gryffindor tower, but revolved around green and silver rather than red and gold. Also, there seemed to be a menacing snake plastered where ever Harry looked. It was sort of frightening, to be in such an unfamiliar place.

But man, did Harry _really _have to shit. He decided, while spending his time in enemy territory, he had better make himself useful. He peered around the room warily, careful to make sure that nobody saw what he was about to do. Harry cat-sniggered at the vision of Malfoy's face when he saw this…

Harry leaped onto Malfoy's bed, which still smelled like the stuck-up bastard. He ventured across the green quilted comforter, which seemed totally out of proportion. Everything seemed huge to him, even the pillow which he was searching for. Harry clambered over to the white, squishy cushion and prodded it with one of his dainty, white-tipped paw. When he saw it safe, he proceeded with his plan and pawed up Malfoy's pillow... and _shit _directly on the pillow. He smiled and hid under the bed while he waited for Malfoy to return.

* * *

Malfoy ambled in his room at about seven, but he clearly hadn't eaten a single bite. Actually, now that Harry looked closer, Malfoy looked thinner than ever. His face was a ghostly shade of white, and his usual confident swagger had mysteriously disappeared. What was even more alarming was the bags under Malfoy's eyes, and the beaten way he carried himself. He seemed to get tired easily, lately. Malfoy plopped down on his bed, exhausted from the day's adventures, but he did not lay his head on his pillow, which was a disappointment to Harry. But, however, he did look at his pillow and clamp a hand to his mouth in disgust. It wasn't as good as Malfoy getting crap in his precious blonde hair, but it was better than no reaction at all. Malfoy threw the blanket up and swept a terrifying glare across the underside of the bed. "_There _you are," he grinned as he scooped 'Paws' into his arms. He sat on the bed and set Harry on his lap (ew). He placed his hands under Harry's armpits and lifted him up so he was nose-to-nose with Malfoy. "What," he said, nodding towards his soiled pillow, "is that?" Harry couldn't manage any more than a crippled 'mew'. Malfoy raised his hand, and Harry braced himself for Malfoy's blow-

But it never came. All Malfoy did was snatch up his wand from his bed stand and flourish it under his bed, causing a neon-purple sparks to erupt from the depths of the dusty wasteland. He also murmured a faint 'scourgify' and the brown splotch on the pillow disappeared. He sighed and set Harry back on his lap (still ew). "I know you had to go, but was it really necessary to do that?" Well. That was not the response that was expected, and to be honest, he had seen better from Malfoy. Malfoy, who had been observing Harry for the past thirty seconds, waiting for some kind of response from 'Paws', had obviously seen Harry's confused expression. "You look just like Potter..." He said at last, a suspicious expression stuck to his face. He watched Harry for a couple more seconds, the tension quickly building. Harry's heart raced. If Malfoy found out who he was, what would he do to Harry? Malfoy mumbled something to himself that was nearly inaudible to Harry, but Harry pretended he didn't hear it. Besides, Malfoy probably meant something else. "C'mon. I'm going to introduce you to my friends." He tucked Harry under his arm and then set a hand under Harry's behind. Well. This is going to make for an awkward explanation later. Malfoy carried Harry all the way down the steps, careful to make sure that Harry didn't bounce out of his arms, and into the Slytherin common room, which was actually more comfortable than Harry had remembered. Maybe it was because this time he was actually welcome there.

Malfoy's friends were hunkered in the cushiony armchairs that were perched around the blazing fire. They seemed to be devising another one of their devious plans to sabotage more Gryffindors or something. Maybe Harry could get some inside details on their latest plans. Malfoy grabbed a chair that a younger student was sitting in, ordered for him to move, and set down on the green-and-white printed chair. His friends looked up at him, and then back at their blueprints. They didn't even seem to be one bit interested in Malfoy, not even his girlfriend. Er, who Harry _thought _was his girlfriend. But Malfoy cleared his throat, telling his friends that this time they should listen.

"What do you want, Draco?" Parkinson drawled, leaving that dull look she always seemed to have on her face for the moment. By this time, the rest of his cronies seemed to figure out what was going on and had given Malfoy center stage.

"I found a pet," he stated simply, holding Harry out for them to examine. They all looked at Harry in wonder, which made Harry, not for the first time today, a bit uncomfortable. The cramped silence was broken by Pansy Parkinson, who broke into a very high-pitched and ear-splitting squeal.

"Give me him!" She reached out and plucked Harry out of Malfoy's hands. For some reason, this left Harry a bit sad; Malfoy's hands were warmer than he had last remembered from his previous all-out fist fights with him. Parkinson hugged Harry to her chest, which was by far the most ghastly thing Harry had had the misfortune of experiencing today. He tried to fight his way out of the... the... _squishiness _that surrounded him, but Parkinson had a surprisingly strong grip. "He's so cute! Look at his little paws, and his eyes are MARVELOUS!" She began to play with Harry's ears, flapping them back and forth and nuzzling his 'little pinkie nose' (Harry could swear he was about to puke). "Have you decided on a name yet, Draco?" Parkinson asked, a hopeful look noticeable on her face. Harry was glad that Malfoy had named before this, otherwise Parkinson might have decided on 'Cutie' or something of that nature.

"I've named him Paws," came Malfoy's mumbled reply from behind Harry. Where did all of Malfoy's confidence go? Harry had thought that Malfoy was the ruler of his friends, when actually, it was quite the opposite.

"Damn it. _I _wanted to name him..." Parkinson pouted and tried to change Malfoy's mind, but his mind remained unchanged. There was a sudden silence that came over the group of Slytherins, so Parkinson seized the chance again to try and change Harry's name. "Are you sure we couldn't just-"

"No, Pansy. You are not going to rename Paws. Now could I please have him back?" Malfoy stretched out his hands, signaling that it was time to give Harry up. Parkinson gave Paws up, against her will, and crossed her arms over her chest. Malfoy sighed and gave in a little bit. "You can call him that, but that is _not _his real name, and don't you forget it!" Malfoy scowled, but chuckled a little bit when Parkinson started to thank him uncontrollably. "Yeah, whatever." Malfoy leaned back against the armchair and, taking Harry with him, closed his eyes a bit and propped his head back. Harry looked at the half-asleep Malfoy whose lap he was sitting on, and hoped that he never had to repeat that sentence to any of his friends.

Then Malfoy did something that was absolutely _unforgivable._

_He started to pet Harry. _Harry stilled for a moment. This was... different. Harry felt… hm. He didn't know how he felt, but he was jerked from his thoughts by another shrill squeal.

"He's purring! That's so _cute!" _She hugged her knees to her chest and rocked back in forth, practically glowing with happiness. Wait, _purring? _Who was purring? Was there another cat in the room…? _Ugh, I can't think with all of this rumbling, _Harry thought. _Wait, there should _not _be a rumbling… He _was purring. Harry James Potter was _purring _because his rival was petting him. Harry tried to stop himself from inclining in to Malfoy's touch, but it was nearly impossible. It was like he didn't even have control of his body. If Malfoy knew who he really was, he wouldn't be doing this. Or at least, he hoped that Malfoy wouldn't be, but with the statement that he had told Harry earlier, it was hard to tell. Harry thought back to what Malfoy had said. _'You look just like Potter...' _In that moment, Harry was wavering on whether to pray that Malfoy realized who he was, or that he thought it was just a coincidence. But Malfoy had just done more to throw Harry off.

'_Oh well. That's even better.'_

* * *

**Ooooo, a little suspense for you guys ;). Can't wait to see what happens next, huh?**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Chapter 2 soon.**

**~C~**


	3. Chapter 2: Breaking

**Hey guys; sorry for the delayed chapter. I was working at it nonstop this weekend, and it's unedited, so if I use some words three times, please forgive me; I'll try to fix it as soon as possible.**

**Also: As lord print pointed out to me, the Slytherin dormitory is in the dungeon, so they couldn't open the window. I'm sorry about that; as I told lord print: I remembered that halfway through when I was writing and I was like GODDAMMIT I'M SUCH A FRICKIN IDIOT and slammed my head on the keyboard, which probably was not very healthy for the computer. Does it make that big a difference? No, not really. Is it very relevant to the plot? Not at all. But, if it bothers you that much, please let me know and I will change it -_-**

**I will now be updating every ten days. Sorry, but I'm not a superhuman and I don't think I will always be able to write 5K words a week. It's very hard, you try it.**

** Enjoy!**

**~C~**

* * *

Two large green eyes opened from under one of the four-posters of the Slytherin Dormitory. They scanned the room, and, seeing that it was safe, poked it's head out from the darkness. One white-tipped paw emerged into the moonlight that flooded the room through an open slit in the curtain. The green eyes reflected off of the light, very nearly glowing in the dark. The owner of them quietly slipped through the moonlight, dousing himself yet again in the twilight.

Tonight, Harry Potter was escaping this wretched place, and there was _no _way that he was going to _ever _come back here.

He pawed at the door, which he had made sure was left slightly open so he could bolt. The cat crept past the door and into the hallway that lead to the spiral staircase, which he dipped plummeted down. He made sure to stick close to the wall, where he was encased in darkness.

A Slytherin second year who had stayed up to do his homework in front of the dying fire. He heard the _pad, pad of soft paws _in the corner of the common room, and turned around to see what it was. For a second, all he could see was the dusty corner under the huge Slytherin tapestry. He rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was hearing things. He _really _needed to go to sleep. When he opened his eyes again, two glowing orbs were glaring at him from the corner. "Woooahh-oh!" he yelped as he scurried back and fell off the couch with a _thump. _Shaking, he peered over the back of the couch, only to see the regular dusty corner of the Slytherin common room. Maybe he really _was _seeing things. He gathered his stuff that he had accidentally scattered when he fell, and began to trudge back to his dorm.

Harry smirked as he did so. The look on his face, oh that was going to make for a good story to Ron.

If he ever saw Ron again, and that was why he was trying to escape this hellhole. With a whump, Harry ran face-first into the wall of the common room. He was sure that there was supposed to be a portrait here-

Idiot. He was in Slytherin tower, not Gryffindor.

Harry scanned the room, trying to find the back of the picture that should lead him back into hallway-

"Paws? How did you get out here?" Harry froze. The fur on the back of his stubby little kitty neck stood on end. That shrill voice was one that was all too familiar to him.

Pansy Parkinson scooped 'Paws' up in her arms and hefted him over her shoulder like a pack of potatoes. "You silly kitty, you can't be out here at night! No you can't, no you can't!" She cooed in a sing-song voice. If Harry could scratch her right now...

Wait, he thought. He flexed his paws, willing his claws to pop out, but they just wouldn't. He held a paw up to his face to study, and he wasn't able to see the tiny, sharp claws that were usually tucked away in the fluffy black fur-

Did... Did Malfoy... Declaw him? Did Draco Malfoy de-frickin-CLAW him?! Oh, he was going to get it for this. Harry growled to himself.

"Awww, Paws you're purring! You're an adorable little kitty cat, you are!" Harry slumped over the Slytherin's shoulder. Looked like he wasn't the only idiot there. Harry's eyes widened in shock as he bounced around on Parkinson's shoulder. She skipped up the steps unnecessarily, humming a bit as she did. Watching as faded yellow bricks passed him speedily. Maybe if he glared at them hard enough, he could burn a hole through them and Parkinson would fall to her death, or, better yet, he _himself_ would...

Suddenly, the bouncing came to an abrupt stop. Harry glanced around, oh God...

"Draco. Draco!" Parkinson shook Malfoy lightly, then more vigorously when he groaned and turned away from her. She grinned mischievously. "You wouldn't listen, Draco, now I get to use my method." She sighed and shook her head. Parkinson bent down, close to his ear. "You asked for it," she whispered. What the...?

Parkinson came closer, and closer...

And _licked_ him.

"I'M UP, I'M UP!" Malfoy bolted up and slammed his head into Parkinson. He wiped his ear hastily and scowled at Parkinson. "You could've woken me up some other way, like stabbing me with a fork or something." Parkinson frowned at this and narrowed her eyes, muttering something that sounded a lot like 'sourpuss'.

"What do you want, anyways? It's what, almost one in the morning? What could possibly be so important at this time…? Oh." He took one glance at Harry, and looked to Harry's captor for explanation.

"I think your kitty tried to escape," She said simply and gravely. If Harry had still had his claws, Pansy Parkinson would be dead right then and there.

* * *

"Come _on, _Ronald." Hermione stamped on Ron's foot under the cloak, which rustled around them at the movement. Ron clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from crying out. He scowled at Hermione before turning back to his throbbing foot. The bushy-haired witch kicked him and hissed to get up. He sighed and eventually succumbed to her seething. She had seemed on edge lately, a little off at classes, interrupting herself in the middle of a book, and snapping at first years, which was the most definite sign that something was up. When Ron tried to wheedle it out of her, she shooed him away and turned back to whatever she was working on, which she hid from him, too.

They scurried around the corner, Hermione stopping him with a hand on his chest as she checked to see if the coast was clear. Ron folded his arms over his chest and sighed. "It's not like anyone will see us, 'Mione-"

Two nimble fingers clipped Ron's mouth shut between them. "Shut _up, _Ron! Someone's coming!" Came the witch's disapproving vent beside him. They listened as Filch's heavy footsteps crossed the corridor in front of them, accompanied by his muttering to that demon cat of his. Ron _tried _to let out a sigh of relief, but thanks to a certain teenager, his mouth was still fixed shut. Ron poked her hand, growing irritated. "Oh, sorry, Ron." Hermione released her hand and earned herself a glower from Ron as he massaged his lip.

"Let's get this over with," Ron seethed as he grasped her wrist and pulled her forward. The cloak reached to the ground, an inch or so pooling around them in a silvery puddle. They hiked up the cloak and scuttled over to the door of the Potions classroom. Hermione whispered a few words of advanced unlocking spells that she had gathered out of the library. A tiny click could be heard along the hallway as the door opened before them into the empty classroom. They fumbled around the desks, all but throwing the desks across the room, and Ron hurt his foot for a _second _time today. "Can we put on _one _damn light, please?" Ron said through clenched teeth as he nursed his foot.

"Of course we can't, Ron! What would someone think if they saw a light on in an _empty _classroom?" She hissed. Ron opened his mouth to reply, but shut it quickly, no response that would help him coming to mind. "Exactly. Now can you get up and just do your best not to break anything? Please?" A sour look passed over Ron's face, but he got up and allowed himself to be led to the Potions closet. He glanced around the room, taking in the shadowy corners and dark, billowing curtains that covered the vast windows. The room was eerie during the day, but this was really starting to get to him. Whatever. He shuddered and shook his head, trying to focus on the mission at hand.

"Ron! Ron, get over here! You might want to see this."

"Hermione, if you're talking about a new Potions book that we might get, I'm not really interested - oh." Ron looked down to see Harry's wand scattered on the floor, along with his glasses and a couple of books that must've dropped from the broken shelf on the wall. "Do you think he fell…?"

"Well, with his reflexes, I wouldn't doubt it. But I just wonder why he disappeared…?" She picked up his wand and examined it. "His wand seemed in order." She set it back down and mumbled, "_Prior Incantato." _A pale, translucent figure shot out of the wand. After a few moments, Ron could recognize a shape that started to form.

"Oh. My. _God."_

* * *

Being surrounded by Slytherins was still horrible, even though it had gotten a bit better since the first day.

Harry still avoided Malfoy, but Harry didn't torture him... as much. It was hard to do, since Malfoy had mostly spent his time reading or catching up on homework, which was much different than he had expected. The picture he got when he thought of Malfoy was usually a blonde demon draped in a purple velvet king's cape, using a first year as a human footstool. He imagined him ordering his cronies around to do his homework and wait on him head and foot. But actually, he was the one being bullied, and he was the one getting ordered around, almost to the point of _him _being the human footstool. Even the first years hadn't a shred of respect for him. It was strange to think of Malfoy as a scared little kid, but the more time that Harry spent around him, the more that that was what Harry thought of him as.

What was even more shocking was how terrified Malfoy was of his father. He had to talk to him every night, to review what he had learned. Harry watched as Malfoy quivered with fear a half hour before their meetings, shakily writing his learning's on little notecards that he would repeatedly memorize and review to himself over and over again, but the usual sense of pride that Malfoy gave off during classes was missing. Then when they met, after a long period of worrying and pacing coming from Malfoy, he would make his friends leave the room (one of the only times they actually listened to him) and kneel at the edge of the fireplace, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He would spend the next hour telling him about his adventures for the day, always nervous and on the brink of tears when his father scolded him. Harry almost didn't believe it, seeing the great Draco Malfoy so helpless.

Harry had been sleeping under Malfoy's bed, as he didn't want to be anywhere near Malfoy when he was sleeping. Today he was camping out in the cloud of dust, playing with a little dust bunny that just would _not _stay _still. _He vowed that he would capture it, eventually. He crept up on it, careful not to blow any air in that direction. There was no way that it was escaping _this _time. It thought it was so fantastic, flying through his clutches. But this time around, Harry was going to be like a ninja, his dark fur blending against the murky background of the shadowed wall. He was just about to catch it in his tiny, white-tipped paws-

Wait, what the hell was he _doing? _He was acting like, well... a _cat!_ Malfoy had better be dumber than he looked; he would never let Harry live this one down, but he always seemed to find these catty little quirks adorable, or at the least hilarious. Harry shoved the dust ball away from him. Stupid dust. It was boring anyways.

Malfoy seemed bored, himself. At 8:30 on a Tuesday, there wasn't a lot to do except for study. Malfoy had gotten the meeting with his father out of the way, but he still had to recover from it a bit. This encounter had been particularly rough. When Malfoy had dumbly ventured onto the touchy subject of politics, a slight disagreement had caused Malfoy's dad to explode. They had tenderly moved onto less… provocative topics, looking like their backs were strapped to boards. They carried out the rest of their chat with such stiffness; it was hard to think that they were father and son. They were almost as bad as Harry and Malfoy.

Every time an uneasy silence dwindled into their slow exchanges, the smaller Malfoy would look away, flinching occasionally as though expecting his dad's father call to strike him. The awkwardness was suffocating, it almost hurt to watch. But just when the silence became nearly unbearable, a fairly safe topic would drop in, though just a tad late. But even then would they continue with caution. The situation _reeked _of unfriendliness.

An aching feeling tugged at Harry's stomach as he watched it unfold. He just wanted to look away, or face palm himself, if he could've. And for one of the first times in his life, Harry felt sorry for Draco Malfoy.

Eventually, the green-eyed cat decided that watching Mr. Malfoy squish his son under his thumb like a bug wasn't enough, so he slinked across the floor to Malfoy, who had his head bowed in either surrender or a silent prayer. He crept into the firelight and nudged Malfoy's elbow, even throwing in a soft 'mewl' for extra. Malfoy glanced back, a confused look leaking into his master poker face. A bright smile sank into his gray eyes, which Harry could almost, _almost, _see them crinkle at the corners. A warmness in his gut caused him to smile, too. Malfoy picked Harry up and held him out to his father to examine. Harry rolled his eyes when Malfoy began to launch into the story of how he found Paws, and felt his cheeks go warm when Malfoy described how he fell in love with his paws. Malfoy stretched the story as far as it would go, pressing on about every detail of that day. Being so close to the fire, Harry was able to watch Mr. Malfoy curiously. He could have _sworn _that Malfoy looked like a kid, some ecstatic little kid, and it suited him. Mr. Malfoy appeared to be a loving father. Not proud, or disgusted, as he usually was, but happy, like his son. They ended the Fire-call on a cheerful note, which left Malfoy just sitting by the fire, smiling like an idiot. Something hinted to Harry that their next session was going to be less of a hurdle. Harry's face relaxed, and he heaved an audible sigh. Glad to see that his little plan worked, he stretched his back legs. Who knew that Malfoy had a soft spot for animals? Oh, he would get him for this. Harry cat-shrugged and began to trot back to his spot under the bed (which was probably cold by now), when Malfoy stopped him with one graciously-spoken word.

"Erm… _thanks." _He said. Malfoy thanking someone was one thing, but whether it was good or bad was another. And Harry, in the middle, was tottering between the two.

But like he said, on a Tuesday night, there wasn't a whole lot to do, especially since Harry was _still _a cat.

"Ugh, I am _dying." _Malfoy complained. One of the younger Slytherins had reported that some Gryffindors had decided to set off one of those "dirty Weasly twins"' new "Heat Waves". The whole Slytherin tower was now as hot as the Sahara Desert. "Oi, Blaise, could you open up a window? I think I'm gonna explode," Malfoy complained from above Harry. Oh, God that sounded suggestive. Blaise grumbled an excuse and went back to sleep. Malfoy gave one of his signature _I'm-too-good-for-this-but-nobody-else-will-do-it-s o-I-have-to _sighs and got up.

If cats could blush, even Harry's _whiskers _would be red.

On walked a shirtless Malfoy, casually opening the window and breathing in the fresh Hogwarts air. Did he have _no _shame? It turned out that Malfoy had quite a muscular chest, ghostly white like the rest of his body, and a tendency to wear his so that they were just hanging onto his hips to cover his vital parts.

But only _just._

Harry couldn't stop his eyes from roaming over Malfoy's chest, running along his strong arms, darting to Malfoy's hipbone. He could now see why girls fawned over him all the time, and why he had gotten the Seeker position. Seeker's had to be light and quick, with a strong upper half.

Did Harry just admit that Malfoy was _strong? _He hoped to God that he didn't.

Malfoy lay back down on his bed. Or, he was about to, when Parkinson burst through the door. All three of the occupants of the room turned to stare at her while she fought back her laughter. When she finally had it under control, she spoke. "Draco! Get a shirt on, you have to come see this!" Malfoy tugged on a shirt that was lying around and allowed himself to be dragged out the door by Parkinson. At first, Harry was tempted to see what was causing all the chaos, but judging by the overwhelming laughter that suddenly erupted from downstairs, it had to do with Gryffindors getting sabotaged, which Harry didn't fancy seeing at the moment. Yet again, Blaise turned over and went back to sleep, his snores filling the dorm.

_Typical Slytherins_. Maybe Harry could try to claw him to death in his sleep…? Harry shook his head, smiling a bit at the thought. Though it would be funny, he had to admit that, it would cause a lot of trouble with Malfoy.

The sunset sure looked inviting, though. And there was no Malfoy around to breathe down his neck… Sneezing a disgustingly adorable cat sneeze as he scooted off across the dusty floor, he set off to see the sunset that he had so missed. When the dim sunlight hit his over-sensitive eyes, he winced and scooched back a little to let his eyes adjust. The room swam out from his hazy vision and came into focus after a few minutes of blindly fumbling around the underbelly of the bed. He crawled out into the open room; he spotted the window almost immediately. He checked to make sure Zabini was still asleep, and continued when he saw the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Harry clambered onto the window ledge. It was much easier now that he was a cat, but he was still clumsy as hell, so any falling off stuff, or somehow _cat-tripping_ would be purely his fault. He pawed onto the roof, brimming with sunlight, and sat down, letting the sunset engulf him. The sunset was beautiful. _This _was what he was being deprived of. He hadn't seen one in more than a week. He had been too… not scared… okay, maybe he was just a little bit _apprehensive _about being in enemy territory. He hadn't been out from under the bed since he got here, except for once to help Malfoy out.

_Help Malfoy out? _Well… Harry supposed that was what he did. Ron would kill him when he found out, but hey, who said he had to admit that he did? Harry sure didn't want to, but… THE HELL?!

Something orange flitted across his nose, and _landed _on it. Harry could feel tiny legs tickling the bridge of his furry muzzle. His round eyes followed the flush of colors to the tip of his pink button nose-

-to see a monarch butterfly chilling on his nose nonchalantly, as though it was perfectly fine to be CRAWLING up someone's FACE. Stupid butterfly, he would _not _get away with this. Harry swatted at the nuisance, missing it by a _hair. _Oh, he did _not._

The butterfly hovered above Harry's ears, just out of his line of fire, the bastard. Drifting over the shingles like the smartass he was, Mr. Monarch was practically _begging _Harry to come after it.

And so Mr. Monarch would get his wish.

The shingles were rough under Harry's paws as he scampered across them. They were still golden from the sunset, which was melting into the horizon faster than Harry could get his paws on that damn _butterfly. _Mr. Monarch was going to be dead as a doornail if he didn't quit the innocent act and surrender, which it looked like he was going to be soon. The butterfly was perched on a ledge of another closed window, totally and completely defenseless. Was this just a strategy, or was Mr. Monarch really waving the white flag, in submission to Harry's epic hunting skills…? He would find out soon.

Harry dropped onto the edge of the window below him where Mr. Monarch was taking a break. He focused in on the winged demon, ready to strike, when-

There was no ground beneath him to stand on. Was he really such an idiot that he followed that damned butterfly off the edge…? He glanced down, and the ground getting closer confirmed his suspicions.

Harry let out a strangled yelp as he hurtled through the air. It whipped past his enormous ears, making it extremely difficult to hear. What was there to hear anyways, besides the grotesque sounds of him falling to his death?

_Crack!_

_Whap!_

_Fwashhhhh!_

Twigs, leaves, and branches were twined around Harry, scratching him and not making for the ideal landing that he had hoped for, maybe a mattress that someone had just happened to leave around?

The worst part was, Harry didn't even catch that _damn _butterfly.

Harry searched around for it, but it was getting harder and harder because of the increasing darkness. _Wait, _what?! Harry turned his eyes to the sky and saw that the beautiful sunset that he had seen earlier was now quickly fading into a murky purple-ish color, dotted with a few stars. It would have been pretty…

If it weren't for him being locked out of the castle.

Harry plopped down, an irritated look occupying his features. He needed to think. If he didn't get back into the castle before the sun completely disappeared from view, he would have to spend the night out here. He would _freeze _to death from the cold November air. Or _worse, _get torn apart by the beasts that roamed the ground at night. He found his eyes skimming the base of the forest, checking if he was already in danger.

_Hagrid._

_Hagrid! _If anyone could fend off wild animals, Hagrid could. Then he could use Hagrid's umbrella to turn him back into a human and go on living a normal life, pretending that the last week never happened.

It was _perfect._

With a determined mewl, he set off to Hagrid's hut. The lush green grass laced around his paws, making him trip and get a faceful of what caused him to trip in the first place. _I hate being a cat, _he thought as an irritated growl escaped his lips. He caught his eyes narrowing and paws curling into the ground with distaste, but untangled his legs and kept moving, making sure to steer clear of any more knots that would slow his journey down.

When Harry was about, maybe thirty yards from the cabin, Harry's head snapped sideways at the buzzing sound that passed his ear. What the…?

There it was again! Harry searched around to find a black-and-yellow striped insect dive-bombing him obnoxiously. Why did all of these bugs keep taunting him today? _WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME?! _He wanted to scream. Or better yet, catch them and make them pay for his suffering.

Yes, that was it.

He watched as the wasp examined his tail and tried to land on it. _To sting me, I bet, _Harry predicted as he swished his tail away in defense. _If he wants to play rough, then let it be so. _Harry cat-smiled deviously and crouched down. If he blended in with the dark grass, then maybe the wasp would think that he disappeared and fly off, and that's when Harry would strike. He watched as the wasp crossed behind the tree beside Hagrid's hut. Perfect. He could defeat the wasp _and _find Hagrid at the same time.

The distracted kitten crossed over to the towering tree, and as he did, the buzzing got louder and louder in his eardrums. The tall grass swiped over his back as he crawled through the field. It brushed his ears back, but they perked back up to listen to the sound of the bees and detect how far away they were. He spotted a brightly colored flower a few feet away out of the corner of his emerald eyes. It was currently inhabited by a hard-working wasp. An _enemy _wasp. Just wait until he saw that his precious hive was destroyed...

Harry backed up against the tree trunk, about to turn around. This was going to be a fun battle that he was sure to win. Harry growled and tried out his best victory sneer, ready to intimidate the _hell _out of his opponent. He turned the corner-

To find himself nose-to-nose (or that's what he thought; he couldn't really tell if that was his nose or his ass), with a one of the escaped Blast-Ended Skrewts from last year. He backed away slowly, praying that it was his rear that was facing Harry.

You can guess which end it was, right?

Harry tripped over his own paws, his limbs spilling all over the dusty ground as he hit the wall of the cabin, dead-ended as usual. The distorted animal gnawed onto Harry and towered over him, ready to blast his face full of scorching flames. He opened his mouth and summoned the flames from the back of his throat. Harry was so close that he could see the bottom of his throat heating up, see the fireball traveling up his tongue. Right as it was about to leave his mouth, about to turn his whiskers into ashes,

"_Aguamenti!" _A voice cried behind him, shooting the fire across the lawn, out of the air. Harry watched as it bounced a bit and landed in a sizzling lump on the yellowing grass. The same voice bellowed "_Protego!" _and came closer. Harry had a pretty good idea of who had come to save his ass...

"I thought I would find you here," a voice drawled behind Harry. _Well. Shit._

Harry slowly turned around, dismissing the wasp from his mind for a moment. Unless wasps could talk…? He looked up, only to be picked up and squeezed like a rag doll a second afterwards. He felt the air leave his lungs, and fill back up again with a light, slightly spicy scent. He caught a glimpse of platinum blonde hair as he was twisted into a Slytherin's arms that he knew all too well.

"Are you okay, Paws? I thought we got rid of all of those beasts last year. Huh." Malfoy picked Harry up and studied his face. His eyes strayed over Harry's face, checking for any signs of injury. After a moment of glaring at Harry's left ear, he came to the conclusion that from Malfoy's vision, there was probably some sort of injury there.

"We can fix that up when we get back to the dorm." He settled Harry back in his arms and set off towards the castle. "Now to cut to the chase. You can't keep running away, Paws, or I'll have to start putting pet enchantments on you, and I can guarantee that that will be _most _unpleasant." He scratched the soft fuzz behind Harry's ear, making the rumbling start in Harry's throat (although this time it was for a good reason) as Harry leaned into Malfoy's hand.

...it was very strange, being comforted by your enemy. But Harry supposed that this didn't count, seeing as Malfoy thought that Harry was a pet rather than a person whose guts you wanted to tear out and stuff up said person's asshole. Maybe Harry was both. Or at least, that's what Harry had supposed earlier today, but Malfoy just saved him. And now he was treating Harry as though he was an injured child of his, cooing into Harry's oversized ear and stroking him gently. How red did Harry think Malfoy'll turn when the word gets out that he has a soft spot for kittens…?

But it was pretty nice of him to come out and rescue Harry, especially after sundown. There were probably many strings that had to be pulled in order for him to be able to even get out here, let alone be allowed to go to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

...maybe calling Malfoy by his first name wouldn't kill him. Harry turned the word around in his brain. _Draco. _It had an odd tang to it that made it almost fun to say. It rolled round Harry's skull, up Harry's spine, looped around his tail, crawled back again, stretching to the tip of Harry's ear and slipping back into his brain. It sounded… nice. He would give it that.

Little did the two know, as they walked back towards the castle, guided by the light from Draco's wand, that someone was lurking in the low branches of the barrier of the Forbidden Forest, thinking to themselves, _Well, this would not do. This would not do at all._

* * *

**Because every story needs a villain! But you won't find out who it is until later ;) Now, I would like to introduce something new:**

**Brownie Points, inspired by YaoiSakka, and I got the idea from XxChocoMelloxX.**

**~Each chapter, you get to give a brownie to a character in the story, and explain why they deserve it. (Ex. Harry gets a brownie for turning himself into a cat -_-)**

**~You can split the brownie between people.**

**~For every brownie a character gets, they get a Brownie Point.**

**~Brownie Points are given to a character when they get part of or a whole brownie.**

**~The reviewers that give brownies and their reasons will be mentioned in the AN in the next chapter.**

**This should be fun. I hope you all enjoy ;) I can't wait to see what you guys come up with.**

**REVIEW OR HARRY WILL GET IT!**

**Until next chapter,**

**~C~**


	4. Chapter 3: Conditions

**OH. MY. GRANGER. I am so sorry, you guys! I meant to update earlier, but was crashing on me and not letting me log in. Before that, I just started school and had to get back into the swing of things. I've been waking up super early to write and I edited this chapter as quickly as I could. Oh! And while I'm at it, the Brownie Points add up to:**

**Hermione: 1 BP from sybil branson jr because she got on Ron's nerves and because she broke into Snape's classroom with a spell she found in the Restricted Section.**

**Draco: 1 1/2. 1/2 a Brownie from kurosakiami01 for being Draco and Harry, and 1 from BearGirl01 for saving Harry. I'm so glad that Draco is getting some love. He's my favorite character besides Harry.**

**Harry: 1/2 from kurosakisami01 for being such a cute little cat and changing his perspective about the blond.**

**And I thought this one was genius:**

**Mr. Monarch and the elusive dust bunny get 1 Brownie Point from dreaming of rocketships for escaping the clutches of Kitty Potter in such a bold, innocent, and adorable fashion. Also, for creating a couple of cute moments for Kitty Potter.**

**THANKS SO MUCH YOU GUYS! I'll try to reply back to the rest of the reviews I got, I didn't know that I should do that, and I just found out recently that most people did.**

**I will update in 10-13 days. Enjoy the chapter. 4,500+ words!**

**~C~**

* * *

Professor Severus Snape cleared his throat for the fourth time this class. He usually wouldn't have thought anything of it, except that it was the same student every time.

And that said student was his godson, Draco Malfoy.

His typically top-of-the-class godson was, at the moment, dozing on his desk, completely unaware of the entire class staring at him, as Snape narrowed his eyes and cleared his throat… again.

"Mr. Malfoy. Kindly wake up, or I will have to do it myself." Snape said, in a tone that suggested that he was on the verge of exploding. Vincent Crabbe nudged Draco, whose head lazily dwindled off of his desk and faced Snape. His eyelids drooped slightly, threatening to close again.

"Sorry, sir. May I please be excused?" He asked, eyes wide with pleading. Usually, he wouldn't let a student go without getting a detention, or at least earning the rest of the class extra homework. This would strictly be a one-time thing. _Only for you, Draco._

Snape massaged the throbbing vein on his forehead with a sigh. He wondered what occurred to make the blonde so tired in the first place, and prayed it wouldn't happen again, for his sake. His godson would pay for this… "If it means that my class won't be interrupted anymore, be my guest." Draco nodded his head in silent thanks, gathered his things in one jumbled armful, and scurried out the door.

* * *

The rug beneath Harry was _soft. _It was like… _Heaven _soft. He rolled onto his back, feeling each of the separate, velvety strings move against his fur in a luxurious sort of way. Combined with the sunlight streaming in through the open window, conveniently shining across his stomach, he was never going to move again. Harry closed his eyes and did another one of his cat-sighs. If he stretched a little this way and then wiggled just a teeny bit that way _ah _that _was it. _Even if Harry was a human he would love this, maybe. Harry didn't really get as much down time to just relax as he wanted, but _here, _he could spend hours a day (and more at night) just sleeping. This was yet another perk of being a cat, and he had found many ever since he became one nearly two weeks ago. He didn't have much time to do that, being one of the Wizarding world's saviors and all. On top of that, he had his studies _and_ fighting Voldemort… It was a very heavy weight to be put on anyone's shoulders, let alone a fifteen year-old's.

Harry heard a gruff voice snapping at some students downstairs. A pair of feet stomped up the steps and stop in front of the door.

A small _bam _of the door hitting the wall resulted in Harry's head to snap in its direction. He was quite frightened by the sight that lie before his eyes. In sauntered Malfoy, er, _Draco, _looking as undead as ever. His eyes were sunken in, a dark ring contrasting under them against pasty white skin. His hair was ruffled; his back slumped in utter exhaustion. He untied his tie and flopped, face down, on the bed. Harry cocked his head to the side and made his way cautiously over to the blonde. He placed a paw on the bed, propping himself up just a little bit more to see what he was up to.

At first, it didn't seem like he was breathing at all, which startled him a bit and tugged at his throat. If Draco died, then he would feel guilty because he couldn't help him because, well, quite frankly a cat isn't really of use in times of life or death.

And he did not want the death of a man hanging over his head for the rest of his life.

But after a second of careful listening, Harry picked up slow breaths, and, thankfully, with even more precise, focused listening and closer scooching, a very faint heartbeat. At least Harry knew that the worst he could be in was a coma, which he wouldn't feel very guilty about. He smirked and curled back up on the rug, still keeping a close eye to make sure he didn't suffocate in the pillows or something. He watched Draco's upper back rise up, stay in the air for a second, and then fall back to the green comforter. From this angle, Harry could see just how thin Draco had gotten, and it was scaring him. His stomach only rose about four inches off of the bed, his legs and arms like sticks. Now that Harry thought back a bit, Draco went almost nowhere anymore and only moved when it was necessary, like classes or when he had to meet his father at the fire. He only ate bread and water, from what Zabini and Parkinson were discussing.

Draco had shut even Harry out of his room that night, so things were probably getting a little rough in there without him to intervene and save Draco's ass. His suspicions were confirmed when he lowered his ear to the crack under the door and heard a soft sobbing sound leaking out before the meeting had even started. Sadness tugged at Harry's throat and he scampered off, not wanting to, or not being able to, hear any more of the retching.

"I'm just so worried about him," Pansy had sobbed. The conversation obviously far too awkward for him Blaise had rubbed her quivering shoulders silently. "He hasn't spoken to me for days. He only eats bread, he's gotten so thin that's it can't possibly be healthy for him. His grades are dropping. I can tell." She shook her head sadly as her throat closed a bit and forced her to stop speaking.

"I know. Maybe a trip to Hogsmeade would help. The next visit is in a week, so maybe you could take him there and then he'd feel better." Parkinson looked up suddenly and dropped her hand, which was rubbing her tear-filled eye. "You know, I care about him, too. He is my best friend, after all." Pansy nodded, trying to cover up her surprise but failing.

So Zabini isn't heartless after all. It came as a shock to Harry, too.

_Hogsmeade, _Harry daydreamed. He wished so badly that he could go there again with Ron and Hermione. If he could get changed back in the next week and escape, he would be able to, but unfortunately, there was always the problem of him not having a wand.

A large _bam _erupting from the boy's dormcaused all three of their heads to snap that way. "What do you think…?" Parkinson trailed off.

"Probably not anything good," groaned Zabini before sprinting off, Pansy following. Harry decided that he had better come with, to make sure Draco wasn't murdered on the floor or anything.

He wasn't, but he was close. They found him spread-eagled on the floor, unmoving except for the tears that were still streaming down his cheek. He wasn't even blinking. "Draco…?" Parkinson stepped a bit closer. "Are you okay, Draco?"

No reply.

"Draco, we know you're upset, it's okay, we understand-"

"No you DON'T! You'll NEVER understand!" Draco screamed at her, the tears rolling faster. He went back to not moving, leaving the other two in their silence. He remained like this for several snail-paced minutes, his friends staring at him in shock. The rise and fall of Draco's chest was so slight Harry wasn't even sure it was there at all.

"Check his pulse," Zabini ordered, and Parkinson knelt down to check. After a moment, she said that he was alive, and that maybe they should move him to his bed. Zabini lifted Draco onto his back and propped him onto his bed.

And that was where Draco stayed.

* * *

"Blaise?" Parkinson's voice was the first thing that Harry heard the next morning. He looked up from under Draco's bed, to see her clad in her school uniform and shaking Zabini awake.

"Fuck off," came a grumble from under the hoard of blankets.

"Wake up Blaise! You're late!" And with that, Zabini shot out of the covers, blankets tumbling to the ground in great mounds, and began to get dressed.

He looked back. "Get out of here! I need to get dressed!" He barked at her, but she tugged at his arm, revoking a sigh.

"Draco isn't getting up! I tried to wake him up just now, and he's not opening his eyes!"

"Did you check his-?"

"Yes, I checked his pulse!" She cried. "He's alive, he's breathing, but he's burning up. I don't know about you, but I'm going to take him to the Hospital Wing."

"Okay, I guess I'll help, since you're not strong enough to carry him."

Pansy gave him a dragging look. "Really, Blaise, you're a wizard in your fifth year. Do you think that maybe there would be some _other _means of getting him there?" Harry cat-snickered. _Idiot._

Blaise grunted, apparently not able to come up with a better reply. Parkinson sighed and waved her wand in Draco's direction. He gently floated into the air, Parkinson still murmuring. "Get the door, Blaise." Blaise complained but did so. Harry, not wanting to be left alone, (and wanting to see what chaos would happen), tagged along. This was a good opportunity to see the castle again.

And the castle had not changed one bit as they moved easily through the corridors, though it was buzzing with rumors about Harry's disappearance. He heard a great variety of them, being on a secret mission for Dumbledore, hurt during Quidditch practice, _killed _during Quidditch practice, went blind because of a Death Eater, was attacked by a flobberworm (the hell…?) and a great deal more. Really, it was embarrassing to think that people thought he was put out for nearly two weeks because of a flobberworm…

The hallway was bustling with people, making last-minute decisions on where to put their feet to avoid stepping on Harry. It was actually quite scary from this angle, when he looked up, all he could see was feet. Once or twice he saw someone that he recognized, but the closest he came was when Neville almost stepped on him. He hissed and ran to Zabini and Parkinson, but felt guilty afterward when he saw Neville's confused form just staring at him. He gave a quiet meow so they would know that he was there, since he didn't think Blaise actually saw him come out the door (whoops).

Blaise turned his head a bit. "Holy shit, Pansy! Paws came along, look look look!" He pointed to Harry and tugged on Parkinson's sleeve like a little kid showing his mother a new toy.

"Blaise, there's no way - HOLY SHIT!" She jumped back, nearly dropping Draco. Several groups of students complained as they walked around her, more turned to see the source of the swearing. "Well, when the hell did you get here Paws?" she said in a sing-song voice, which didn't really fit with the word 'hell'. "He's gonna get squished, put him on Draco, Blaise," Pansy told him, and Blaise picked up Harry and placed him on Draco's stomach. He wobbled a bit, but sat down and was able to regain his balance. It was the weirdest thing, standing on a Malfoy's stomach. He poked it a bit with his paw, and, after seeing that it was actually pretty fun, poked it a bit more. A series of pokes and prods followed, then, gaining boldness, he hopped. And hopped. Draco let out a grunt after a bit, so he decided that maybe using a sick person as a trampoline for a cat wasn't the best idea, and sat down again.

He watched the people passing by, a sea of heads expanding further than the eye could see. There were many Hufflepuffs, a couple Ravenclaw first years near them (which Blaise barked at to move out of the way), and- oh God, oh God -

Ron and Hermione were five feet away, talking to Neville and clutching their books to their chests.

Harry crouched down a bit. If they recognized him, _Harry Potter, _sitting on _Draco Malfoy's _stomach, some very awkward questions would come up, some very strained answers would have to be spoken, and one particular Gryffindor would never hear the end of it.

"He's finally croaked, eh, Zabini?" a voice called from Harry's friends' direction. Snickers erupted across the hall. Harry wanted to run away and hide.

"Just sick, Weasly, probably from being around all you blood traitors." _Ouch. _Harry wanted to scratch Zabini, or claw his eyes out or something. The look of rage on Ron's face would have been funny if it weren't for what the Slytherin had just said. He grabbed Zabini by the collar and pulled his face close to his own.

"Listen here, _Blaise," _He spat. "I'm sick of you calling us _blood traitors _and _mudbloods. _If you don't like it here, then get the hell out. Stop being an ass." Harry had seen Ron mad before, heck, he had seen him angrier than this before, but Harry had always been around to stop him before he did something stupid like this. He didn't want Ron to somehow get fate stacked against him and end up in trouble with-

"WEASLY." A voice boomed from down the now-empty corridor. "Get your paws off of Mr. Zabini this instant." Fast-paced footsteps closed in on them, Harry's heart pounded each time the feet hit the stone floor. _Shit. _This would not turn out well.

"Professor Snape!" Blaise smiled, regaining confidence with the backup figure behind him.

Snape looked at Ron and Blaise first, and then Draco, and then his eyes fell upon Harry, and stayed for quite a bit of time. "I didn't know Draco had a new… _pet."_ He murmured, eyes still focused on Harry. _He knows. I know it._

Pansy giggled awkwardly. "What's wrong, Professor? You look like you've seen a ghost!" She laughed a little longer, but faded off when nobody joined in. She looked around at the looks that were pointed at her, cleared her throat and backed into the background. "I'm sorry, continue."

"Weasly, go. You too, Ms. Granger. And be grateful that I didn't take any House Points, because I will next time." Snape shooed them away with his hand. Harry heard Ron mumble 'Oh, trust me, we believe it' under his breath as they moved away.

"What's the matter with Draco?" He questioned when Ron and Hermione were out of earshot, eyes still unmoving. It was really starting to creep Harry out. The group of Slytherins (Theodore Nott had decided to join them back in the common room) stared at him for a moment, and then finally comprehended what he said.

"Oh, well, um…" Blaise started, unsure of how to explain or even where he should start. A lot of things had been wrong with Draco in the past few weeks. "He was having his nightly meeting with his father last night…"

"And he shut us out of the room, like usual." Pansy joined.

"Yeah!" Blaise pointed at her. "And we heard crying coming from his room…"

"Nothing new there." Snape commented in his dull voice.

"And then a loud noise, so we went to check on him. He was on the ground not moving. He was alive, Professor," He said hurriedly when he saw Snape open his mouth to interrupt. "Just not moving. So we moved him to his bed, and when we checked in the morning, he still wasn't moving. We decided maybe we should take him to the Hospital Wing."

"Okay," the professor nodded. "Send him my best regards when he wakes. Good luck." He paced away, his black robes swishing behind him.

"He's so scary sometimes," Nott whispered behind them.

The Hospital Wing was surprisingly empty in the morning. The bleached sheets were neatly folded on the beds. Madame Pomfrey bustled around the wing, commenting on every flaw in her work or grumbling about how much more cautious they needed to be. The four of them watched as she fixed this, tweaked that, moved that to the other side of the room, checked this, and diagnosed Draco at the same time.

"Well, I am happy to inform you that this is not a serious case. Not overly serious, anyways. Mr. Malfoy is just sick, he's caught a virus. A bad one, but not permanent or serious." She kept a straight face as Pansy, Blaise, and Nott released their breath. "However, he will have to stay in the Hospital Wing and take his medicine for about a week, maybe a little bit more."

"But Madame Pomfrey, I still don't get something." Pansy asked, a confused look settling in on her face.

"What is it, dear?"

"Why wasn't he moving earlier?" A murmur of agreement passed around the cluster. Harry was actually wondering that himself, from his spot on the corner of Draco's bed.

"Exhaustion, dear. You really should make sure that he eats more." Well, it was true that Draco wasn't eating, so he was bound to get tired sometime. He was bound to wear down; his strength was going to run low.

Their heads turned when they heard the huge Hospital Wing door creak open. It was two Hufflepuffs, one with a slightly mangled leg. Her friend was supporting her with an arm around her shoulder. They limped in, giving Madame Pomfrey a strained look. She was across the Wing in mere seconds. "Excuse me, dears, but I have other patients to attend to," she turned away from them and began talking to the girls.

"How long do you think it'll be till he wakes up?" Blaise questioned, the three of them now just standing around the bed, looking at Draco. Harry sat down again and looked at him, too.

Pansy cocked her head and evaluated Draco. "With Madame Pomfrey, maybe a day. With any luck, he'll be up by the time we're done with classes today. We can come visit him then." Blaise nodded and pulled up a chair, but Pansy slapped him on the arm. "We still have to _go _to classes, idiot!"

"Oh. Right." They got up to leave. They weren't going to _leave _him here, were they?! He meowed angrily and Nott turned around.

"Oi, Pansy, your cat's meowing." He called. Pansy, who was already halfway, turned and glanced at Harry.

"That's Paws. He's not my cat, he's Draco's." She rotated to ask Blaise, "Should we leave him here with Draco? It's allowed." Blaise murmured something to her, and judging by how Pansy gestured for him to come, Blaise agreed with her and they weren't coming back.

* * *

Was it possible for a cat to kill themselves? Harry knew he was going to die of boredom anyways, why not just get it over with?

The Hospital Wing was the dullest place in the universe; Harry now had no doubt about that. He might even prefer Snape's classroom over this. _Maybe. _He had tried everything to cure his boredom. He had slinked around the beds, searching for long lost items that had been dropped behind there. He had pestered the other patients, including the Hufflepuff girl, which was actually pretty fun until he got yelled at by Madame Pomfrey. He was able to sit on the windowsill, until he almost fell out again and decided that he should get off.

And Draco was _still _out.

Harry lay down under Draco's bed, setting his head down on the dusty floor. Draco was above him, still sleeping/passed out as Madame Pomfrey fed him and injected medicine into his arm. She came back once every hour or so to do so, which was the current method that Harry was using to tell the time. She had given him six shots so far, and she was bustling back to give him another one. Harry could hear her heavy, fast-approaching footsteps coming near. He could hear her apron rustling around as she bent down to give him the shot in his arm.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Harry heard the bed springs creaking as (undoubtedly) Draco shot out of bed and swore several times before calming down enough to ask, "Where the fuck am I?!"

"Language, Mr. Malfoy. We have younger patients here as well." Madame Pomfrey scolded. "And you're at the Hospital Wing. Your friends brought you this morning claiming that you weren't waking up." Draco relaxed a bit against the bed frame.

"Slimy gits," Draco muttered and laid his head on the pillow again. He sighed irritably. He was back to normal quickly. Harry popped out from under the bed, sat down, and glared at Draco for making him have to stay here. Draco saw him out of the corner of his eye and a grin broke out on his face. However, the smile faltered when he saw that Harry was angry. "Why're you giving me a look, ya' bastard? What's the matter- oh, okay, sorry." Draco lowered his voice after a series of 'shhhhhhh!'s and 'hush's. Harry continued to stare him down mercilessly. Draco stared at him back. There was about a minute of this, so silent that you could hear a pin drop. Madame Pomfrey just stood there, looking back and forth at the blonde and the cat, not sure what to do.

Finally, she cleared her throat and said, "Mr. Malfoy, I still have yet to give you this shot." Draco looked up and sighed his I'm-way-too-good-for-this-why-should-I-even-have-t o-do-it sigh that he was so good at. He snapped out his arm and gave her the expression that one would give to a teacher right before a surprise test. Harry knew because he had seen him do it. When Madame Pomfrey injected the needle in him, Harry saw Draco's face freeze up for half a second, and then he shuddered and went back to normal.

* * *

"Hurry up, Ron." Hermione, fed up with her friend's slow pace, finally snatched his arm and pulled him into the library, led them to the back table, and pushed him into a chair that she grabbed from another table.

"Her_mioneeeee!" _Ron whined. "I don' wanna go to the library. Especially during lunch." Hermione smacked the top of his head. "Ow! What was that for?" He grumbled and clutched his head.

"For acting like a child." Hermione snapped and pulled a large book out of her bag. She plopped it onto the table (with a rather loud _thump_) and flipped through the pages eagerly. When she came to the page that she was looking for, she thrust the book into Ron's face and screeched, "_There! THERE!" _Ron looked confused for a moment, and tried to set the book onto the table, but Hermione, faster than a mother cheetah protecting her cubs, clamped the book on Ron's hands. She then set the book down, and opened to the page Ron's hands were stuck in like they were a bookmark. Ron stole his hands away and nursed them, as there was nearly always something to nurse of his when Hermione was around** [AN**: **Don't you dare take that in the wrong way, you dirty perverts! :O]**.

When Ron finally had the courage to speak, he spat, "Now what was _there?" _Hermione sighed heavily.

"Remember that spell we found in the Potions Cabinet?" Ron hesitated, then nodded. "_Well, _I did some searching up on it, and I found what the spell was." Ron's face brightened slightly, and his eyes smiled warmly. He didn't show it, but he really was missing his best friend. Neville, Dean, and Seamus were nice, but the dorm just didn't feel as balanced without Harry. "The closer we can get to finding out what happened to Harry, the closer we can get to finding him." Hermione was smiling, too.

"So what's the spell?" Ron asked.

"Well, it's actually a pretty advanced spell. None of us have learned it yet, but with Harry's garble-mouth, it's no miracle that he was able to accidentally say it." Hermione pointed at a line in the book. "It's this spell, actually." Ron peeked down at the book. There sat a couple of words, so ancient and odd that it was hard to even wrap his mind around. They were probably Latin, or some other neighboring language. Ron looked to Hermione for help. She huffed and started to explain.

"It's a spell that, when casted, turns the caster into the closest animal to them." Ron started to say something, but Hermione cut him off with a hand. "Dead _or _alive. You know what this means, don't you?" Ron, breaking the grave atmosphere with his utter loss, shook his head sadly. "It means that Harry could now be any animal in that Potions closet. We have no way of finding out which one."

"Should we tell Dumbledore? I mean, he could probably help, and it would put all of these _ridiculous _theories to rest. _Flobberworm my ass…" _He muttered. Hermione thought for a moment.

After a long time, she finally said that they should. They rocketed through the library, out the door, and into Dumbledore's office, where they found Snape, talking angrily to the Headmaster. Dumbledore brushed them out, but they listened behind the door.

"...You know, don't you?" Snape asked gravely.

"I do, Severus."

"Do you have an idea of what to do about it?"

"I do, Severus."

"You know how dangerous this is, Albus?"

"Yes, I do, Severus."

"I will leave the matter to you."

"I know, Severus."

"We need to stop this. It's not healthy for him, it's breaking him down. He's still his bratty, king-like self, but toned down, kind of timid. And now he's in the Hospital Wing, and was put there after one of these events." He was seething; the room itself was oozing the tense mood.

"I know, Severus. I know." Dumbledore said sadly. The voice alone broke Hermione's heart. Ron was just left in a muddle of confusion. "Observe them. Find out, please. I don't want another one to be influenced. And if he is, please talk to him about it." Snape bustled out of the room. He glared at Ron and Hermione for a moment, and whisked out of sight. "Come in," they heard Dumbledore call, and they entered cautiously.

"Professor Dumbledore, as you know, Harry has been missing for some time now, and we think we may have a big clue to where he is." Dumbledore nodded for them to continue. Hermione, hauling in a huge breath, said, "We were searching in Professor Snape's Potions Cabinet," _Way to save our asses, 'Mione, _Ron thought. "That was the last place we saw him. And we saw his glasses, and his wand. And we looked into his wand, and we saw a... _interesting_ spell."

And off Hermione went, telling the whole story again, but this time more dramatic and including some hand motions to show just exactly what she was talking about. Dumbledore, bless him, listened without getting annoyed, miraculously, and was letting her go on with nods and 'Okay's. He reassured him that he would get right on that and search for Harry himself as soon as possible, as losing a student in the castle would be a great shame indeed. As they turned and left the room, the Headmaster leaned back into his chair and closed his eyes. He heaved an enormous sigh, and said to Fawkes and all of paintings on the wall, "Naturally, this school only gets the most interesting cases."

* * *

**Well, I hope that was interesting. Things will pick up in the next chapter, I have a nice, nosebleed-worthy way to end the next one. *evil laugh*. I promise you, you will not be disappointed. Don't forget about Brownie Points! Review or Draco will get worse!**

**I really hope you guys keep reading.**

**Love, C**


	5. Chapter 4: Inexcusable

**GOMENNASAI GOMENNASAI! I AM REALLY SORRY! I didn't mean to up date so late, but I swear to the Holy Roman Empire that my computer is possessed and every time I try to type or go onto the Internet, it makes this really loud beeping noise and blasts my eardrums out! I got it fixed yesterday and was finally able to upload the chapter because I typed it on a different device and sent it to myself but GOMENNASAIIIIIIIII! *Clings to your leg* PLEASE FORGIVE MEEEEE! I will try to make this not happen again, but I don't have any control over my demon computer.**

**DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fanfiction, as in made by a _fan. _The only thing I own is the plot. All rights and characters go to our queen, J.K. Rowling.**

**Rating for this chapter: T for swearing and detailed gore. (It's really not that bad, but if you are not particularly fond of that stuff, just be careful.)**

**Now for everyone's favorite part: BROWNIE POINTS! (And there were a lot of them this chapter, thanks for keeping me on my toes, guys D:)**

**Draco: 2 3/4 BP. 1 from dreaming of rocketships so he will feel better (Draco thanks you), 1/4 from Elliac Sivad because every sick person deserves brownies (Draco agrees).**

**Harry: 2 3/4 BP. 1 each from sybil branson jr., kistenbabe, and 1/4 from Elliac Sivad for jumping on Draco's tummy! 1 from torajune28 for glaring at Harry adorably**

**Hermione: 1 BP**

**Mr. Monarch and the Ever-Elusive Dust Bunny: 1 BP (xD)**

**Snape: 3/4 BP. 1/4 from Elliac Sivad for showing that he can be a caring Godfather when he wants to be. (Snape is currently sulking in the corner), and 1/2 from natsuki23 for caring about Draco (Snape is going to be sulking for a couple of days, actually).**

**Blaise: 1/2 BP. 1/2 from natsuki23 for caring about poor old Draco (Blaise is bragging his head off, thanks a lot).**

**And this one gave me the blushies:**

**Me: 1/4 of a BP from Elliac Sivad for "Writing such a glorious fanfic". Thanks! x3 (I'm blushing so much my family is calling the Hospital no wait that's the asylum).**

* * *

_Don't say "If I were you…"_

_Or tell me what you'd do…_

_How things would be_

_If you were in my shoes…_

_Cause you're not me._

Hairy Pawter Chapter 4: Inexcusable

_The manor had always been huge to Draco. No matter how long he would ever live there, no matter how many rooms he would ever explore; there was always that huge, empty feeling inside the manor. If anything, it seemed to get bigger as he ventured. He got even lonelier as the mansion enveloped him, so he soon stopped investigating, and he didn't interact with other humans besides meals. After that, he would stay inside his room, reading books of fantasy. His mind could wander off for hours on end, creating worlds of its own. He was considering writing such books himself, and he did, until one night when his imagination disappeared from him entirely._

_There was a screaming erupting out of his manor. The shrieking echoed until it was suddenly cut off. Minutes later, a clipped howl burst out again. It was late at night, and Draco had stayed up reading and writing, which he had been doing fairly regularly lately. He was reaching the down point of his story, the part where nothing was working out the way the way the main character planned it, and then everything would get better and he would save everybody._

_He heard a blood-curdling scream, and his body turned to ice. This… this _coldness _in the air was so unusual; it wasn't natural. He got to his feet, shakily, and froze. There it was again. It was a female voice, coming from lower in the house. Clutching the railing for dear life, he hesitantly made his way down the stairs. If there was something going on in this house, he would find out what it was, but he was a little bit… scared. Just a bit, not overly afraid, but he had to admit, if someone was screaming in your house, in the dead of night, he was probably going to be scared. The darkness was freaking him out, too. There was another cry that echoed off the walls and into his ears again. He followed them down another flight of steps. After a couple more, he was lead to a door that he didn't often go through: the basement. It was the only place that wasn't richly furnished like the rest of the house. It was dark, a sort of creepy place that monsters climbed out of. With the screeches that were exploding from it, Draco wasn't all sure that he wanted to go down there. He grit his teeth, and with a great amount of determination, creaked open the door._

_It was very dark, it was _very _dark. It was to the point where Draco was nearly blind. There was a small light in the corner, though, so he made his way over to that faint glow. His eyes were adjusting; either that or the light was growing closer. But he blew his cover when the floor creaked as he stepped on it. _Damn these old floors! _Draco thought. The figure that was standing in front of the light whipped around to reveal a mangled woman on the floor. Draco gasped. Her leg was twisted around several times, the skin on the kneecap finally breaking at one point; she had a large cut on her forehead that was disgustingly deep. Her arm was twisted… backwards. Her stomach was bleeding, and it was leaking something white. He gasped and looked away. The sight was too much for his six year-old eyes to bear._

Draco shot up and gasped. He looked around. His vision was blurred for some reason, so all he could see was dots of white spinning as he turned his head. Was he… dead? Where was he? His rubbed his eyes a bit to get the sleep out, but he found them strangely wet. Was he… crying? No, he scoffed. He didn't cry. Hufflepuffs cried, but not Draco Malfoy.

Draco snapped back the white starched curtain that surrounded his bed, but was hit by an immediate rush of blinding white light. His eyesight was fuzzed by a hazy blur of brown and green spots dancing before his eyes. When he was finally able to see again, he looked around. He was in the Hospital Wing. Light was seeping through the massive windows, so it was either late morning or early afternoon. No one was in the Hospital Wing, so he was able to look down the row of beds, uninterrupted by the curtains that usually would have separated the beds that were occupied.

But today he was alone.

And he could not have wished for anything better.

Draco hated being inside the whole day, though. He hated the fact that he had to be bedridden for full two or three days more. There was Quidditch practice tomorrow, but Draco figured he could miss it. He was considering dropping out anyways, due to his lack of interest in it anymore, and his already overwhelming amount of schoolwork. If there was one more thing that he could get off his plate, no matter how small, he would swipe it off in a heartbeat. He had told this to Pansy a couple of days ago; she had replied that if there was something he could move so he wouldn't have to worry about it, it was Paws. Draco had turned red and said that the cat stayed, no matter what. She had asked why and Draco, the master of excuses, had said that if he had taken responsibility for a life, even if it was just for a cat, he couldn't back out on it. Besides, who would want a cat three months into the school year? Pansy had agreed, not wholeheartedly, though, Draco could tell. The truth was that there was something special about this cat… something that made him feel a connection. He could sense that this small creature could tell what he going through, somehow. It was one of the strangest and happiest emotions that he had felt in a long while. Lately he hadn't been feeling any at all.

The others had taken notice to his state of being; they had been slightly more cautious around him, as if they would break into his emotional shell with the most meaningless of words. He was at a delicate fork in the road, which was sure; his father had been torturing their family with all of the Death Eater meetings that were being held in his home; along with their prisoners. It was frightening for a mere nine year-old to know that there was, even if he or she was on the brink of death, a living, breathing human being that was being held in his basement against their will. There was a tenseness that had casted itself over Draco, now; a kind of feeling that had on the edge of insanity.

"And he lives!" cried Madame Pomfrey from across the Wing. Draco's head popped up; how long had she been there? If she had been there long enough, she would have seen him crying, no, not crying. She would have seen him… venting. It was a good thing that his curtain was closed at night. Draco sniffed and leaned against the headboard once again. His hands landed with a _whomp _on his lap, tucked in his too-large pajamas that Madame Pomfrey had handed him the night before. She bustled over to Draco's bed and pulled up a chair. She sat down and, resting her head in her hands, elbows propped up on her knees, stared him down. Draco's eyes darted from her to other objects in the room, desperate to escape from her merciless visual attacks. He squirmed in the covers until, finally, she probed quietly, "Do you know how long you were unconscious or asleep as I like to call it, Mr. Malfoy?" Draco shook his head. Judging by the look that she was giving him, the answer wouldn't be as good as he hoped. "Four days, Mr. Malfoy. Four days." Draco couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at this. _Four days? Four _fucking _days?! _He had guessed one or two, but _four? _Madame Pomfrey nodded in silent agreement, knowing what he was thinking.

Draco couldn't hold it in anymore. "What the FUCK?!" Draco barked. Madame Pomfrey opened her mouth to tell him to 1) quiet down and 2) stop swearing so much, for heaven's sake, but decided against it as she peered around the Hospital Wing and ruled that her best option was to give up scolding him.

"I had wanted to, if you stayed 'asleep' for any longer, test you for any minor brain damage, but it seems my prayers have been answered and you've awoken!" Madame Pomfrey beamed and flicked her wand as a stethoscope rose from her pocket and started to unroll itself. Draco gasped as the cold metal touched the skin just below his collarbone. "Don't worry, Mr. Malfoy, I'm just checking to make sure that this is no trick and you really don't have any damage."

But that was not what Draco's mind had wandered off to; his mind was on what Madame Pomfrey had confirmed just seconds earlier. She had… _prayed _for him? Draco didn't have any time for religion, or rather, he did, but his father had never been one to go to church and there certainly wasn't a Bible in their house. No one had ever gone to the trouble to pray for Draco. Most people were either afraid of him or one of the people that he was afraid of. If felt nice, knowing that someone had gone out of their way to make sure that a good word was put in about him with the Big Guy. It made him want to look into this 'religion' thing.

"Well, all done here. You're good." Madame Pomfrey announced after a series of slightly embarrassing tests, some prodding here, some poking there. He was used to having this stuff done in the comfort of his own home, with the family doctor. But at school, at his _home _for nine months out of the year, was a different story. He got up to put his clothes on and finally get out of this place, but was stopped by a hand flinging across his chest. "Not so fast, Mr. Malfoy. I said you were good, I didn't say that you could go. You still have much resting to do." Madame Pomfrey whisked away, her clean white apron flapping behind her. Draco nearly banged his face on the bedside table that stood next to him. If he had to sit another day in this hellhole…

Draco spent the day working on homework, finishing up _Accio in Greece, _and planning how his meeting with his father would go that night. After all, he had missed a day, which happened every so often, so tonight could get a little painful. If there was anything more that he needed…

Harry had ultimately decided to stay back when he discovered that the Three Slytherin-keteers were going to visit Draco. It's not that he didn't want to find out if he survived, but his rug right now was just _so comfy… _Plus, Pansy had stated to Blaise earlier that that delirious journalist had come back. Harry wasn't sure which one she was talking about, because there were many of them these days, but when Pansy reported onward, his fears had been confirmed… Rita Skeeter had returned to Hogwarts.

And when she discovered that there was a cat living at Hogwarts that had Harry's "mournful, tear-filled emerald eyes", the papers would be all over Harry faster than he could hide under Draco's bed. If there was anything that Harry had observed about Rita Skeeter, it was that if she was in a five-mile radius of you, you were advised to always have your guard up. Therefore, Harry ruled that it was safer to find out if there was a dead man in the Hospital Wing when the dead man walked through the door and told him that he was okay.

The last few days had been so incredibly boring. Harry had lost count how many days had gone by since he got his whiskers, but he came to a conclusion that it was getting close to the three week mark.

_Three weeks, _Harry thought to himself. He had survived being surrounded by Slytherins for three fucking weeks. He was one tough man/cat; surely he would be praised for his duty to the Gryffindor house when he returned back. Honestly, it had been really terrifying in the first three hours. He didn't know what they would do to him; Harry had always thought that Slytherins killed innocent kittens, and he was convinced that Draco Malfoy ate them for breakfast. But he discovered that, apart from being a little more devious than the other students at Hogwarts, Slytherins were just kids, like the rest of them. Just trying to learn. And really, they weren't all that scary once you got over the fact that they were complete psychopaths when it came to pranks. But they sure did know how to keep it lively in the Slytherin Boy's Dormitory. Every night, there would be either a slightly traumatic prank or a really deep discussion on the meaning of life, and these guys couldn't keep a straight face during either. It felt a bit more… not _homey, _no, that was definitely not the word, but it felt less provocative. When he, at last, discovered why it the atmosphere felt like this, it was for a reason that came with mixed emotions. This is what they did at Gryffindor Tower. They would mess around and joke with each other about the most ridiculous subject they could find, and then end up getting yelled at by Hermione for being too loud. Harry was a bit frightened by this discovery; they had been treating the Slytherins like criminals for ages. It came as a bit of a shock to him, too, but maybe this was the reason that Gryffindors and Slytherins were rivals. Gryffindors are so stubborn that they don't want to believe that Slytherins could be normal, much less _nice. _But it also came as a sort of comfort to Harry. At least he wasn't the only one who had been misjudging them.

He would settle that when he turned back again, which he hoped would happen as soon as possible. But there was still a lot of exploring to do here. Harry rolled over and put his weight on his paws once more. He had slightly gotten used to this whole cat thing, and how he was supposed to walk, lie down, and sit. He disliked the whole fact that he was a pet, still, though. He didn't think that he would ever get used to that. He didn't want to.

Harry continued with his adventuring. What would Ron want to explore? Harry thought what Ron's reply would be: "You're a cat now, let's go see the Girls' Dormitory!" The cat shook his head. No, he would not sink to the level of a Peeping Tom. Maybe.

…If there was anything he was going to do, he was going to find out what was going on between Draco and his father. By the way Mr. Malfoy had been speaking to his son the other night, there had to be something going on that was bigger than your regular father-son feud. Harry leaped up to Draco's bed, which still smelled like the blonde: some sort of spicy cologne. It tickled Harry's nose and made him do one of his little cat-sneezes. Ugh. Harry glared around to make sure no one heard that. It was extremely high and very… cute. Not something the Chosen One would want to be known for. Setting his mind back on the task at hand, he flipped the comforter back a bit to make check if there was some sort of explanation for the Draco/Lucius situation under there. There were no clues hiding within the sheets, so he moved to the small suitcase that was hidden away under Draco's bed. Harry hadn't bothered to open it during his time stowing away beneath there. He scooted downward to the underbelly of the bed. Using his head (literally), he pushed the suitcase out onto the rug. He squeezed out and pawed over to the edge of the suitcase that had the opening. He flicked the little switch and the case sprang back, making Harry jump about twenty feet in the air. He heard Pansy, back from the Hospital Wing; ask from downstairs, "What was that?"

_Shit, _Harry thought. It made a very loud noise when it hit the floor behind it. He could hear the footsteps traveling up the stairs, towards him. He had to think fast. With an incredible amount of cleverness on his part, he started to force the suitcase back under the bed. It was extremely heavy, and difficult to push. Harry's ears twitched with the sound of the three pairs of feet getting closer with each second. _Screw this, _he thought, and backtracked so he was about five feet away from the side of the suitcase. He listened to the Slytherins stop at the door to open it, and ran towards the suitcase. His paws hit the ground faster and faster, until all he could see was the blur of his surroundings spinning before his eyes.

At the last moment, he leaped. It seemed, that just for a second, everything was in slow motion around him. The doorknob was slowly turning. Into the suitcase he plopped, the sheer force sliding the suitcase under the bed, him in it. _Was he really that heavy? _Was all he could think as Pansy, Nott, and Blaise stepped into the room to investigate. They left without a sound as Harry did a mini victory dance, under Draco Malfoy's bed, in his enemy's suitcase.

He slowly climbed out of the suitcase and slinked around to the back of it. He pushed it out yet again, but it was slightly easier than last time. He waited for the footsteps to disappear down the hallway and then peeked inside the leather case.

It was empty except for one book.

One.

Book.

He nudged it open with his nose to have a cloud of dust puffed into his face. The kitten shook his head furiously and removed most of it. He was able to see again, and was greeted by faint yellow pages with neat, practiced handwriting. The words that he read were carefully chosen and well thought through, by the looks of it. The words that he read were aged and obviously very important to the receiver.

The words that he read were either a death wish or soon to be one.

Draco got out of the Hospital Wing after two more days of school work, taking disgusting medicine, and banging his head on the wall. His time wasted in the Hospital Wing had been torture to Draco. If he hadn't gotten out sooner, he would've died.

But now that he _had _gotten out, he was sure he would've died anyways.

Blaise was now 'convinced' that Draco was still sick. He was now cooing over Draco every chance he got, which was just considered more proof to Draco that Blaise was faking it. It was getting overwhelming.

The first time Draco was attacked by Blaise's lovesickness was when Blaise tried to get Draco to let him _carry _him back to the dorms. _Probably just to feel my ass, _was Draco's first thought on this matter. The second was to get to a garbage can; he was going to puke just thinking about it.

The second time was when he woke up the next morning to find Blaise and him nose-to-nose, Blaise claiming that he was checking for a fever. Draco screamed and, out of shock, slapped Blaise across the face. He then, out of glee, grinned when it left a large red mark on his face.

The third time, Draco started to get sick of the flirting. Blaise attacked him while he was coming out of the shower. He tackled Draco and _straddled_ him, and this time's excuse was that Draco looked pale and he should lie down and he was just helping him so he shouldn't slap him again.

Draco ignored him and slapped him again.

Blaise seemed to be wearing down a little bit, so that was good. Draco rubbed his forehead exasperatedly. The problem was, he didn't want to crush Blaise's spirits, but he also wasn't in favor of his lifelong best friend crushing on him. Pansy was on his side, too, but probably because she was persuaded that she was dating Draco. This just got Draco in deeper.

Draco lay back on his bed and closed his eyes. He was happy to be back in his regular old dormitory. It was late afternoon, almost evening, so the dim sunlight was streaked with pinks and reds that reflected into the room. The air here was so much more relaxed than the crisp, clean, Hospital Wing air. The sun set on another chaotic day at Hogwarts, and Draco wondered where that bastard Potter had run off to. Probably being Dumbledore's pet again. But still… If he didn't turn up soon, the Ministry would be all over the case, they'd probably flip out on Draco's parents, too. Whole wizarding world was _always _focused on Harry fucking Potter…

...But what if he didn't turn up? Draco guessed he would be kind of happy about it. Maybe he was leaving the Wizarding World to Voldemort's destruction, the ass. Running from his problems as usual. Not only that, but with the Chosen One gone, who would he annoy? To be honest, it was really fun to watch Potter's reaction to everything. He had quite the animated face. When he was surprised, his green eyes would widen so much you could see the little specks of lighter green in them. His eyebrows would go so far up his forehead it was almost comical. Sometimes, if he was _really _surprised, his mouth would drop so that Draco could see his tongue and his light pink lips would form a perfect 'o'. Draco chuckled lightly.

And bolted up.

He must really be going insane.

Yet another week passed for Harry and Draco. They went about their daily routines, each having their own separate problems with their current state of being. Though, every day, Draco would bring the scraps of food from the Great Hall that Draco didn't eat. Draco still wasn't eating much, but 'Paws' didn't like cat food. Whenever Draco brought human food, however, he scarfed it down like a wild animal, which he was far from being. Draco still took ridiculously long in the shower, which no one questioned, really.

Draco felt lonely. That was the real reason that he had gotten Paws; maybe a pet would help him escape from the pit of darkness that he had been stuck in lately. But the cat just seemed to ignore him; he would even go far as saying that Paws _hated _him. He couldn't put his finger on it, but every time the cat's eyes wandered to him, it gave him a look of such… _suspicion._

Draco set his head on the back of one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. It was always so peaceful, finally a place where he could think. He liked it especially when there were no people there.

He liked everything when there were no people.

He was always looking out not to step on Paws, he made sure to bring food for him, which he seemed to enjoy, he even brought Paws some toys to play with: a little plush mouse that was enchanted to zoom around the room when activated, a few ribbons that were charmed to dance around and taunt Paws while he was _supposed _to chase them around.

Nothing.

Not a single reaction to anything.

This situation was edging on hopeless. Paws was Draco's cat; Draco wanted him to like him, but he couldn't force him to.

Draco stood up. He couldn't make Paws like him, but he would do everything in his power to make Paws happy here.

He practically skipped up the steps from the Common Room to the Boy's dormitory. What better way to get someone (or some _cat) _to like you than to spend time with them? He smiled, nearly giggled, and pushed open the door to his dorm.

Pansy, in the Common Room below, watched her blonde friend make his way up the staircase. With a visible difference in the way he walked, she positively beamed when she saw his face. However many times she had seen him in the se past months, she hadn't seen him looking this happy. These were the times that she should be capturing with the camera in her mind, lest she didn't see his smile for longer than last time.

Harry was not happy. He had been woken up from his now-daily nap by his blonde idiot of an owner bursting through the door and stealing him away from his place on the rug.

And now he was in his enemy's lap.

Watching him do homework.

For the third hour in a row.

Draco had missed a week's worth of schoolwork while in the Hospital Wing, so Harry was now forced to discover how long it took for a Slytherin to make that up. The fact that he was having to watch Draco do his homework wasn't what bothered him; it was that he had to sit in Draco's lap, while Draco petted him that rubbed him the wrong way, and quite literally, too. He didn't dare lay down and be all cozy-cozy with his current "owner" (ugh, even the _word _disgusted him), no, he was sitting stiffly, facing the table, on Draco's mid-thigh, so he was as far from Draco as he could be. He watched Draco's hand scribble an answer to today's Astronomy question. Draco's health wasn't the only thing suffering; his once-neat handwriting had taken a downfall to a messy scrawl, to the point where it was nearly illegible. Harry wasn't exactly sure what caused this; maybe he had just gotten lazy, or didn't care about his school work anymore. Maybe this was a sign sent to them as one of the first signs of the apocalypse. But in all seriousness, he was slightly worried about Draco for not the first time.

Harry began to check Draco's work. He wanted to make sure Draco's grades didn't drop any lower than they already had. His eyes glanced over the first couple questions; those were right. But he almost rammed his head on the table when he came to the fourth one. The most obvious question _ever _was the one question when Draco decided to live up to the dumb blonde stereotype. Harry turned around, poked Draco's stomach with his paw, and glared furiously at him. _Idiot. _Draco looked down at him and sort of nervously looked away. He did a double-take to make sure that he was seeing correctly, and then gripped his quill tighter and looked away. Harry smirked. Draco could tell that he wasn't going to let up. "...The hell d'you want, Paws?" Harry rolled his eyes and bit the closest part that he could reach - a small portion of skin just below Draco's ribcage. Draco yelped and fell off the chair that he was sitting in. Harry landed nimbly on the floor while Draco toppled away.

Now that Draco had stumbled back into his chair, he gawked at Harry and huffed. There was a moment where these two both just glared at each other in a silent contest of guts.

Harry, not breaking the stare, hopped onto the table, walked to the paper, and put his paw on the question. Draco took a moment to glance down at the paw, although he didn't get the message. As much as Harry had recognized Draco as smart, he was sure being an idiot today. Harry meowed impatiently and stood on the question, though Draco didn't understand.

A fuming Harry took the quill that was slung across the table in his mouth and set it on the question. Only then were things starting to piece together to Draco. He was not very proud to say that he got his homework done and corrected by a cat.

_Fire is nice, _Draco thought. He always thought that fire was a beautiful substance, when his father's head wasn't ripping out of it. He looked down at the little bundle in his lap. Paws was asleep, he had been for about twenty minutes, and in that twenty minutes he had curled himself into a little ball and was breathing slowly. Draco set his hand on Paws' side. He could feel Paws' chest rise and fall, and it was cute. He smiled and leaned back in the chair. After today's events, he could definitely tell that something was different about Paws. He was smart, he could understand him. He didn't look at Draco in a mindless reply; he bit Draco when Draco was in a bad mood to snap him out of it.

_Oh well. _Draco cradled Paws in his arms and took him up to the Boy's Dorm. He slowly tapped up the steps to make sure he didn't wake him. The dorm was dark, which told Draco that everyone was already asleep. Blaise's quiet snores filled the room. The moonlight that shone through the window provided a little light for Draco to see where he was going. He muted his footsteps and slowly crept over to his bed. The blonde set Paws at the end of the four-poster and slipped under the covers. He fell asleep without a sound.

It was somewhere close to 11:30pm and Harry couldn't sleep at all. He didn't remember even falling asleep, all he knew was that now, when he should be sleeping, he couldn't. There were never any times like this in Gryffindor Tower. And when they were, they weren't filled with this eerie silence. It was scaring him. He turned over on the green and silver comforter. This wasn't going anywhere, by the looks of it. It didn't look like Harry was ever going to turn back into regular old Harry ever again. He was having a hard time looking on the bright side.

He mewled quietly and turned onto his back for no reason. Well, maybe there was a reason. He was getting really lonely as of late. It wasn't like he could join in on any conversations; it wasn't like he could strike up one, either. He pawed at the dust particles in the air, visible in the pale moonlight. They scurried to the other side of the room with even the slightest movement. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Draco's chest rising and falling slowly. He was slowly getting a bit of meat on his bones, although he was still horrifyingly thin. He seemed… not _happier, _no, he was definitely not happy yet… he seemed more open. The questions weren't avoided as much, even though there still were those left unanswered. He set foot out of Slytherin Tower more than the bare minimal. His grades were picking back up. Draco wasn't as afraid.

This had made a noticeable difference in the atmosphere. Draco was halfway back to being the boss, maybe a little less. And while this wasn't exactly what you would call a good habit, it was better than seeing him getting beaten down by 11 year-olds. To be honest, those days were the ones where Harry really, truly pitied Draco. It was sad to see a man have his ass kicked by someone half his size.

Suddenly, Harry felt a rumbling inside himself. This was different from purring, this was different than anything he had felt before, like he was being pushed through a very tiny hole, or shrunk down to that size. He glanced around nervously. It was coming from inside him, wasn't it? A few more moments of rumbling confirmed that it was. Where from inside him, he wasn't exactly sure.

This was really starting to creep Harry out. With each passing second, it grew louder until all Harry could hear was a bomb-like booming echoing in his ears. He growled furiously but the noise showed no mercy. In vain, he tried to cover his ears. Finally, when he thought that he couldn't take it anymore,

It got louder. Harry felt something warm in his ears. _Blood, for sure. _He felt a falling sensation, and that seemed to be what he was doing: falling. The blasting finally had met its end, but whether or not it was a good thing riddled Harry.

Harry was human again. He had fallen off of the side of the bed and landed with a _thump _on the ground.

However, said _thump _had woken up a certain blonde that was now gawking at Harry.

Oh, yeah, there was another thing that he forgot to mention.

Harry was completely naked.

* * *

**Oh no you guys... I can't wait to see how Harry gets out of this one (and trust me, if you're the perverts that are hoping for this whole situation to end in lemon in the next chapter... you will _not _be pleased.)**

**SO JUST CLARIFYING: THERE WON'T BE LEMON FOR A _LOOOONG _TIME.**

**But also, I would like to point out something to you guys:**

_**Harry and Draco are **_**tied _for Brownie Points._**

**Draco: GIVE ME BROWNIEEESSS**

**Me: Get _away, _Draco! No violating reader-chan!**

**Harry: Come on, Draco, you can be around innocent readers when you're emotionally stable again.**

**Me: Thank you, Harry. But anyways, give Brownie Points to your favorite! I can promise more fluff and some... _face-palm worthy _moments next chapter! Too-da-loo!**

**~C**

**P.S.: REVIEW OR DRACO GETS WORSE! MWAHAHAHAHHAHA!**

**P.P.S.: I'm serious, I have some ideas of what will happen if Draco gets worse. Will only make the plot thicker, so I might do it anyways (~-U-~)**

**~C~**


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